The Red Strings of Fate

Some say that you see a bright light and experience a feeling of peace when you die. Andy saw just that, but by no means was it peaceful. It was actually quite painful. In fact, Andy's whole body was in pain. It felt like she had been hit by a truck….

Suddenly, the hazy bubble surrounding Andy's consciousness burst and she remembered the overpass; stepping up onto the guard rail, what she thought would be her final act. But if Andy had died, why was she in so much pain?

Trying to lift her heavy lids seemed nearly impossible. Through her eyelids, blurred silhouettes of what seemed to be people moved in and out of the blinding light hanging directly overhead. The sounds of footstep and mumbled voices began filling her ears. As Andy's senses returned, she realized that she was very much alive, but how? She was obviously in some sort of hospital or medical center. The smell of generic cleaning supplies and latex hung in the air around her. As voices and figures became clearer, so did the pain she felt all throughout her body. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, almost as if her entire body had burst into a million pieces and been reassembled in a matter of seconds. Her confusion only grew as she began catching pieces of the conversations going on around her.

"….from apparating…..splinching…," what sounded like a woman's voice said.

Apparating? Splinching? Were those even real words? Whatever splinching was, it sounded painful and she hoped that that wasn't what had happened to her. The other word sounded completely foreign and not something you would hear in a hospital. Before Andy could begin to question anything else about this confusing situation, the haziness she had felt after first waking began to return to her. The jumbled voices grew quieter and slowly began to fade away. The light overhead grew dimmer. In one final moment another voice chimed in on Andy's right side. The words were practically incoherent, but the word "blood" was easily made out. Assuming they were referring to her bloodstained clothes, Andy forces her vocal cords into operation.

"It's….not my blood," she managed and then fell back into unconsciousness.

The rattling of the compartment door nearly overshadowed the steady chug of the train engine as it made its way through the green countryside of England. Empty, rolling hills of green grass and scattered boulders passed at a steady speed. Staring out the window was the compartments only occupant. The petite young girl sat, legs crossed, chin propped on the windowsill staring at the passing scenes but not seeing any of it. Her mind was miles behind her, still in the room at Saint Mungo's Hospital where she awoke five days before.

Waking to an unfamiliar room, the fatigued teen was not sure how to digest the scene around her. Awaking in what seemed like the late afternoon; sun light peaked through the thin cotton curtains hanging on the nearby window bathing everything in orange light. She was clearly in a hospital, but the room contained almost no medical equipment at all. In fact, an IV in her right arm was all she could seem to identify. There were no heart monitors, no oxygen tubes, just a few pieces of plain wood furniture and the metal framed hospital bed she now sat in. It was as if she had been sent back in time to a hospital in the 1800's. Taking in the scene around her, she didn't even notice the silent figure resting in a nearby chair.

"Well, good morning."

The surprised young lady nearly fell out of her bed at the sound of someone in the room with her. Sitting bolt upright, she turned quickly to the source of the greeting and saw a tall male figure standing a few feet from her. Dressed head to toe in deep red, the man at the other side of the room could have passed for someone no older than nineteen, but judging by his professional stature he was probably a bit older than he looked. His messy strawberry blonde hair fell slightly over his left eye and complemented its pale green color. Along with his deep maroon suit and crème colored dress shirt, it was as if Van Gough himself had painted the man. Standing with his hands in his dress pants pockets, he could have passed for a male model.

"You've been asleep for two days now, we were worried you were going to sleep forever," He said and flashed a smile.

It was one of the most gorgeous smiles the girl had ever seen and she was grateful that her fatigue prevented her from looking too surprised. Luckily, a nurse in a blue dress and medical apron entered the room before her eyes swallowed him whole.

"Oh goodness me, you're awake," the nurse said as she made her way towards the bed.

"What's your name?" asked the man in red as if the nurse had never entered at all.

"Thank you Mr. Knolls, but I think we can handle it from here," the nurse interrupted as she continued to move around the bed checking the IV.

The man, Mr. Knolls, began to turn and leave the room. The girl's fatigue broke for a moment as she realized he was leaving. She didn't want him to leave. She didn't even know his name until now, but he was kind and he was the first person she met in this strange place.

"Wait!" she cried desperately. Both the nurse and Mr. Knolls turned to face her at this surprising outburst. Feeling slightly embarrassed, she looked down at her hand now clenching the front of her white hospital gown.

"My, um….my name is Andriel," she stammered, "Andriel La Caz."

With that, he flashed his beautiful smile again and repeated, "Andriel."

Her already unique name sounded absolutely divine coming from his mouth. Unfortunately, her fatigue didn't prevent the redness that creeped into her cheeks. Noticing this, the nurse made her way back around the bed and towards Mr. Knolls.

"Thank you Mr. Knolls," she said as she beckoned him out of the room, "have a good day and good luck at Hogwarts."

"Alright then," said Mr. Knolls chuckling slightly, "I'm going. Get well soon, Andriel."

With that, Mr. Knolls exited and left Andriel and the nurse alone in the hospital room.

Andriel choked back tears as the memories of St. Mungo's replayed in her head. There was no reason to hold back, she was alone in the train compartment after all, but her stubbornness got the best of her. When she awoke she had no idea where she was, or why she was there. In fact, she had trouble remembering almost anything except for basic knowledge of who she was. She knew she was eighteen and that she lived in Colorado, but she couldn't for the life of her remember any conversations, any people, any events that had happened any time recently. While she could remember her birthday, she couldn't remember her address, or any addresses for that matter. She couldn't recall any family, friends, or even pets. She could only remember herself, her alone, and no one else. She had lost her memory.

"Where am I?" was one of the first questions she asked the nurse soon after Mr. Knolls left.

"Saint Mungo's Hospital my dear," she replied as she made her way around the room, her wrinkled hands moving swiftly through drawers and straightening sheets.

"Is that in Colorado?" Andriel asked confused.

"Colorado?" the nurse asked in her foreign voice, "In America?"

Andriel just stared, confused at the question. Where else would they be? The look on the nurse's face turned from confusion to worry as the silence grew between them. Without another word she turned and left the confused Andriel alone once more. What was going on? A few minutes later, the nursed entered the room again, this time followed by what seemed to be a doctor. Sporting a long white coat over his dress clothes, the middle aged man made his way toward the hospital bed.

"Ms. La Caz," the doctor said leaning uncomfortably close to Andriel, "tell me what you remember."

She never expected the sheer horror that she was about to experience in the next few hours of explanations.

"London!" she exclaimed at the news, "London, England!"

She shouldn't have been too surprised at this fact. Both the nurse and Mr. Knolls accents, although not heavy, were noticeable. Still, even with her lack of memory, she was pretty sure London was one of last places she would find herself…ever. With the initial shock of being in a country thousands of miles from her home, the next thing she was about to learn would have thrown anybody for a loop.

Andriel La Caz, five foot six, one hundred and thirty five pounds, was a witch. No, not the green-faced, pointy black hat witch; she was the levitate furniture, possible turn you into a frog witch. According to the doctor at Saint Mungo's, the same magical blood pumped through thousands of men and women (or witches and wizards) throughout the entire globe. Usually signs of magic pop up at age eleven, but there are some rare cases of late bloomers. Since there were no memories to tell whether or not when and if Andriel showed these signs, there wasn't much she had to argue with.

Although she couldn't recall memories, she could recall facts.

Fact: Her name was Andriel La Caz.

Fact: She was eighteen years old.

Fact: She was American.

Fact: Magic wasn't real.

Someone who couldn't recall almost ninety percent of their life isn't one to correct others, but magic being real wasn't something she could easily accept. Except for a few times when she could of swore she saw a nurse levitating some sort of shot or medicine, she never saw any sort of display of magic. Unfortunately, with no memory, nowhere to go, and no one she could even call for help, she had no choice but to trust the people telling her these unbelievable things.

The things they weren't telling her were almost as unbelievable as the things they were telling her. Whatever caused her memory loss was something the doctors referred to only as, "the incident." Details of this "incident" were never mentioned around her, nor if this "incident" had injured her any further than knocking her out for a few days. They seemed more concerned with educating her on this unfamiliar world than figuring out what happened to her.

School doesn't seem like much of a priority to a missing, foreign, memory vacant person. According to the doctors at Saint Mungo's who apparently know best for her, the best way to educate her, and possible regain some of her lost memories, is to attend a school for young witches and wizards called Hogwarts. That is where the train Andriel now road was heading. With no memory and no clue what happened to her, Andriel's only option lied ahead at the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry Potter Fan Fiction